8444 posts
  • kidluvari 19m

    your city

    show me your city
    the parts you call home
    where you collect your coins
    and get your laugh from

  • black_p_m 2d


    It is still and quiet where the birds live
    Flapping from tree to tree,
    I wonder where home is

    A repetitive process it is
    Ensuring a shelter is above your heads

    But it's in that temporary structure
    Where peace is permanent
    It's in that chrill cry
    Where kindness is loudest

    And in what seems to be a fruitless struggle
    There is fulfilment

    With an architects perfection
    With a crafters skill
    With a painters grace
    And with a potters patience,
    The bird is able to establish a place called

  • madinah_writes 2d

    Mother; the various fruitfold of love.
    A disciplinarian yet, gentle as dove.
    Wipes away out tears in abruptness.
    Leaving us nothing but smiles and happiness.
    Just like others, she could annoy.
    But when you find the reason, would give you joy.

    Mother; the various fruitfold of love.
    Her smile shines brighter, under the radiant sun.
    The flames of her love would forever burn.
    A love no weather can quench.
    No condition can change.
    My mother, the various fruitfold of love.

  • nocturnal_enigma 4d

    * 18.1.2022; 6.24 A.M (Malaysia)

    * For my #crush #AHBA

    #home #wod @miraquill

    -ome ~

    Home: Where heart is. I want to be your home.
    Come to me. Let me be in your heart. Welcome...
    to my heart! You're my home, Mr. Handsome.
    You're also awesome, my Sherlock Gnome!

    © Nuruliffa Emirah
    @ nocturnal_enigma

    Read More

    -ome ~

    (Read Caption)

  • purujit_kothari 4d

    || गाॅंव का मकाॅं ||

    सुना था दिल बस इश्क़ में टूटता है,
    मैंने आज बचपन की यादों को टूटते देखा!


  • agyaanee 5d


    वापस लौटने की खुशी में,
    दिन सरपट बीत जाता है
    चार दीवारों के भीतर ही,
    जब पूरा संसार नज़र आता है।

    उन चेहरों को मुस्कुराते देखना,
    होता है मात्र लक्ष्य जीवन का
    उन आँखों का ख़्वाब,
    जब ज़ाती अरमान बन जाता है।

    सब तराने लगते हैं बेसुरे,
    वो हँसना कानों में ऐसा रस घोल जाता है
    दुनिया की दावतों की कौन बिसात,
    जब मेहनत का निवाला कोई प्रेम से खिलाता है।

    अस्तित्व खोना ही अस्तित्व लगता है,
    जब 'मैं' 'हम' में सराबोर हो जाता है।
    लकड़ी-पत्थर में उठ पड़ती हैं तरंगें,
    और ढांचा मकान से तब 'घर' हो जाता है।


  • aaureate 5d

    Home Sweet Home


    I am a renovated house
    In cerulean blue and snowy white
    Exquisite chandelier and marble flooring
    Brilliant paintings and ornamental railings
    French windows and arched hallways
    Adorn me
    I look like a piece in pinterest  or
    Those lovely houses on glossy magazine page
    Everyone calls it a splendid house with opulence and luxury
    House no.9
    That's what I am
    But where's home?
    I look desperately around the nook and the corner for The Home
    Where's the warmth of a morning sun which thaws the wintry night?
    Its cold marble floors send shivers to the lonely heart
    Touch of its wall cuts the skin and no one's there to heal
    Luminance of the chandelier suffocate the eyes
    I am awaiting the giggle of a child and touch of a smile
    Two souls who are unconditionally in love
    Affection of a family who calls this their abode
    I am a renovated new house
    Waiting for the day someone will put a sign
    On my door
    Home Sweet Home

  • adorable_girl 5d

    four walls Home

    I need a serenity beads on my walls,
    And a colourful rainbow paints,
    A window without glasses,
    To start a day with shining sunrise,
    A peacock pendulum clock,
    To listen every second tune,
    Plants behind the door,
    To inhale the fresh flutters,
    Some crafts on my walls,
    To embellish the gazes,
    I need me like a place.

  • husnachikwela 1w


    If I was a house, If danger I could announce,
    If I was a house, I could have enough noice,
    I could be like horse, that could be my choice,
    I play part for shoes, when thief get a chance,
    I know they could abuse, they do not get price,
    In how power I use, they will base my chance.

  • the_matchstick 1w

    Cemetery - Home

    I died!
    My dead soul is further dead!
    The end soul, if ever there is an end, is crucified!!!

    I'm Soulless!

    Is this Home?
    Is this The Awakening!


  • teasel_vente 1w

    New light in the stairwell

    Where once all was dim
    now, such illumination!
    A new sun tunnel


  • soundsofsaddness41 1w

    Who is keeping track?

    When Home
    Time Waits
    Most Know.
    At home, when you work,
    It's up to you how it goes.
    Time Waits
    And Runs
    Your Way.
    Your Lost
    Time Waits
    When Home.

  • sonu99 1w


    A house is built up of bricks,
    But a home is created with hearts.
    A house is made of walls,
    And a home is connected with souls.
    A house gives shelter,
    Whereas a home gives laughter.
    A house turns to a treasury,
    When it becomes a home of memories.
    A house is supported with beams,
    A home is filled with hopes and dreams.
    A house is for safely living,
    But a home is a heavenly blessing.
    A house can be a home,
    With blossoms of love and family poem.

    Read More

    A House can be a Home


  • miss_silentlyweird 1w

    How can I write this without breaking?
    When all of my feelings are overtaking
    How can I put it down, pinning?
    When it's too much and words are sinking

    How I wish it's so easy to erase
    But nope it's not the case
    In repeat— I can no longer embrace
    Your presence or trace

    You know, I started to hate the flowers
    And to keep away your favorite drawers
    This phase taste so sours
    Mixed with tears and deplores

    If only heaven have visiting hours
    Maybe I will not be this cower
    To live a life without you
    Or to see world in another view

    If only the place you in
    Can be reach to ask how are you've been
    So now or then there will no be "Goodbye"
    Only see you in another time retry

    . ~So much has change in every alley
    Since you have been away~

    #home #wod #song
    #miraquill @miraquill
    Listening ; Visiting Hours by Ed Sheeran
    Note: Not edited, just a force write to let out this heavy feelings

    Read More

    You're my home
    And now you're gone
    I am renovating how to live again
    since I lost lots of foundation
    of hope, love and affection


  • words_flake 1w

    What according to you makes a house ,a home?

    According me parents
    , grandparents are the one whose existence makes our house ,a home..

    #nehabhavsar_quotes #home #wod #miraquill

    Read More

    What according to you makes a house ,a home?

    According me parents
    , grandparents are the one whose existence makes our house ,a home..

  • mehakknaazsaifi 1w


    My Vagrant Soul Made Home In His Arms
    When We First Hugged Each Other.
    I Painted The Walls Of My Home With Black Color, The Color Of His Shirt,He Wore
    When We First Hugged Each Other.
    Now My New Home Smells Like Him.
    I Started Living In This Home With The Luggage Full Of Love And Care.
    This New Home After Every Tiring Day Give Me All Comfort, Warmth,Feeling Of Love And Hope.
    That's Why I Want To Live In This Home Forever And Starts Our Family Together
    Where We Our Loved And
    Where We Can Love.


  • agot_22 1w


    Run away to this place
    It's new but I called it a mess
    Trying to accept or try to forget

    Give some time
    I will go back to that time
    This house is much louder
    Were together laughing and teasing each other

    We can bring that back again
    I'll feel the same
    I hope that I feel this house is my home again

  • charlieka 1w

    You Were My Home

    all in clots of torn tissue clouds of misery soaked in the blood of a broken house
    lay a heart barely fibrillating dying for the
    that was burned to the ground


  • sitstillinthecarplease 2w


    Walls of shattered brick and steel
    hold aloft a crumbled ceiling.
    I've seen them in haunted dreams
    but could not pinpoint my feeling.
    Staring passed evergreen spires
    wrapped within this sylvan womb,
    a cadre of shadows shall endure
    perpetually preparing their room.

    As shreds of time slip from grasp
    fate dissolves in the stream
    Gazing into reflectionless water
    with invisible eyes agleam.
    Daubed with pearl and pewter,
    these formless faces in bloom.
    I've seen them in ancient garb
    dancing with the memories of their room.

    They'll sketch a cascade of sunlight
    pouring into the sunken ceiling
    while photos are smeared with dust
    and the faded wallpaper is peeling.
    I've seen them through splintered glass
    echoing the hymnals of doom.
    Trapped within those shattered walls,
    slowly becoming part of their room.

  • highfriction 46w

    The Timbre In My Voice

    The new owners speak such promise it makes my old eaves swell with pride. I watch the young couple move in with their boxes and crates and cases and bags and feel the thrill of excitement at the prospect of new life. Their sudden arrival startled the surrounding nightlife and awakened the sleeping giants. I watch them breach my boundaries putting up blinds and blocking my view. Hidden from all outside, even moonlight is restricted from my interiors. The forest dwellers who had long since settled into my dark corners seeking warmth and peace of protection were startled by the sudden invasion and fled. Not out of instinct but fear. Being long term occupants they had grown smug and lethargic.

    My new owners settled into the open spaces, oblivious to the flood of fleeing inhabitants their presence triggered. I watched them unpacking implementations, tools and utensils, all designed to improve human cohabitation. What are their applications? What purpose might they serve? The new owners performed some menial undertakings, brief flurries of activity, mostly to improve their own standing, then nothing. The space they inhabited quickly encroached into areas recently vacated by the previous occupants. Then smells started permeating my ancient timbers. Horrible tart smells that stung the eyes and hung in the air. A silence descended onto my being. A silence so deep I think about their tools and utensils. A silence so deep I wonder what they are up to.

    Dank acrid wet smells emanate from the darkest alcoves within my walls. Foul excretions that stink worse than any forest dweller! My eyes are not only covered but are now sealed against the fresh air that blows outside. The human occupants now tear down my inner walls and burn them within my hearth for warmth. I no longer call them my new owners. Even the previous occupants, as unwelcome as they were, were more tolerable. They at least had the good sense to spread their droppings over a large area. These current inhabitants leave steaming piles of faecal matter wherever they see fit! They didn't ask my permission or seek my protection before moving in.

    Do they deserve my protection?

    The moving van that brought them to my front door has long since disappeared. The initial flurry of activity has died and been replaced by an inertia. A staleness that consumes as it feeds. My outer walls shriek as more and more of their inner compatriots are sacrificed and consumed to warm the cool skin of the human interlopers. Did they come here seeking a new life, or were they fleeing one seeking them? It is rumoured that the moving van that brought them here was parked many days ago in the darkest part of the woods and set alight and then walked away from. It was left to burn of its own accord. It should have burnt out long ago but I've been talking to the wind and it has agreed to keep the coals turning long enough for me to decide what happens next.

    The burning remains of the moving van have become a meeting point for all the forest creatures evicted from my domicile when the humans first entered. And the steady rumbling heat is a welcome respite to the approaching winter. The previous inhabitants have been very patient in letting me come to a calculated resolution. The ancient timbers will wait until the next full moon for the current occupiers to clean out their droppings and replace what they have taken. If nothing improves the wind will carry the embers of the burning moving van to the splintered outer timbers still remaining around my skirting boards after the humans destroyed my balustrade.

    The air has become caustic. The growing stench of excretions have soiled my very heart. My previous occupants never left me in such disrepair. Indeed the very fact of their existence meant movement and circulation. And their late-night chitter chatter was almost a rhythmic hum in itself. My old eaves have been home to these woods for as long as there have been scrub fires and meteor strikes. The old majestic timbers towering over me are in agreement with the ones still within me that our lives will not end by human malfeasance. Intentional or not, it is not a future we see for this forest. If there is to be sacrifice it will be by our own hand and not by human disruption. Even the evicted forest creatures are in agreement with this. And for these two current intruders testing my patience with their constant defiance?

    I owe them nothing.